


The Effect of Lincoln

by badboy_fangirl



Series: The Effects Series [3]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: Lincoln and Jane finally get some alone time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is where it switches to third person

With her plastic-gloved hand resting against LJ’s forehead, Jane conceded that to look after or  _take care_  of Lincoln—a promise she’d just made to his son—entailed a lot more than simply making sure the man got some sleep and some clean clothes. The frightening part was just how much her stomach fluttered at the idea.  
  
Jane Phillips wasn’t a woman whose stomach fluttered. She killed people for a living; or at least she had for a long time before she got on board with Aldo Burrows and the Anti-Company Campaign. She’d been in more hot spots than she would ever admit to, and the multiple ways she knew how to take out an enemy would fill several books.  
  
However, this sleeping boy and his father had reduced her to something she never thought she could be.   
  
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the doctor had come into LJ’s room until a heavily accented voice said, “ _Senorita_?”  
  
Jumping, she backed up, apologizing as the doctor smiled. When she began speaking to him in broken Spanish, his smile grew wider and he held a hand up to silence her. He, just like her cabbie from earlier, spoke English much better than she spoke Spanish and he quickly relieved all her fears by telling her LJ’s condition, while critical, was stable and continually improving. In fact, the doctor said, LJ was better in 10 hours time than most people would be with a full 24 hours of resting. He applied that miracle to the prompt medical attention he had received, and the blood transfusion he’d been able to get from his father.  
  
That right there was all the more reason for Jane to get Lincoln back to the hotel so he could rest. She suddenly had an image of a dead man walking; knowing how emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted he must be, yet he’d gone to make sure someone took care of his brother.  
  
It was time someone took care of him, and she was the only available applicant, or so LJ thought.  
  
As she headed back up the hall, she saw Lincoln standing in the waiting area with the woman who had been with Michael when Jane first arrived. Jane had noticed her then because although the dirt and grime all over her made her a matched set with Michael and Lincoln, she was also strikingly beautiful. Sofia was what Lincoln had called her, and just as Jane got within shouting distance, Sofia wrapped her arms around Lincoln’s neck, hugging him tightly. Jane paused, watching as Sofia whispered something against his ear before pulling back. She touched Lincoln’s face, her forehead creased in concern, but then she turned and walked away.  
  
Jane assumed she was going to wherever Michael and the other fellow were, but she also felt her stomach flutters wilt a little at the familiarity she saw between them.  
  
Shaking her head, she silently berated herself. She hadn’t come here looking for a love connection, and she certainly hadn’t promised LJ she’d take care of his dad for any reason other than she wanted to do it, for both of them. So whatever might be going on between Lincoln and that girl were the least of Jane’s worries. Logically, she knew that.  
  
Really, she did.  
  
Lincoln turned around just about the time Jane’s determination to be a professional caregiver emerged. They moved toward each other, but there was instantly concern in his face. “That was fast,” he said, his eyes growing wide. “Is he all right?”  
  
Smiling her reassurance, Jane nodded. “Just sleepy. He dropped off almost the minute he saw me. I figured the sooner he gets some sleep the better off he’ll be.”  
  
Rubbing a hand across the top of his head, Lincoln blew out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. You’re right. Fuck. I feel like I haven’t sat down in days, much less slept.”  
  
Stretching a hand out in what she was sure was a professional gesture of comfort, Jane ran her hand up his arm, and somehow her fingers were under the sleeve edge of his t-shirt, touching the rather plump (even when relaxed) bulge of his biceps. “I saw the doctor too, he said LJ’s improving dramatically and that that’s a good sign.” She paused a moment and then rushed forward. “LJ said he wants me to…” and then she blatantly lied, because she wasn’t going to tell Lincoln what LJ really wanted her to do, nor that she’d probably enjoy it way too much. “Make sure you get some sleep. Michael and your friends left?”  
  
The hand resting on his head lifted, waving to the area behind him that included the exit sign. “Yeah—I just, I thought maybe you’d like to know what the hell happened.”  
  
Her fingers curled around his arm, and she gave up the pretense of being professional. Her thumb skated over the sensitive inner part of his arm and she felt his muscle tense a little. “Someday, I’d love to hear everything. Right now, I’d rather not look at you and wonder how much of LJ’s blood is all over you.” He glanced down at his chest as if just remembering it himself. “And you do need to rest, you’re about to fall over standing up.”  
  
When he lifted his gaze back to hers, the fatigue in his face became even heavier, as if acknowledging it somehow made it more prominent. He nodded, but then looked a little confused as he said, “There’s not much room back at the hotel. I mean, there’s a bed, but Mike and Sucre will probably use that and the couch…well, Sofia needs a place to sleep too. She can’t go home right now,” he sighed as if it were all too much. “Tomorrow we’ve got try to find her boyfriend, but in the meantime…”  
  
He trailed off uncertainly, but Jane’s stomach flutters returned commando style when she heard the words  _her boyfriend_. The offer sounded in her mind only briefly before it fell out of her mouth. “My hotel is like three blocks from here. I booked the room with my flight before I knew you guys were here. You could…”  
  
The relief on his face was briefly so comical Jane couldn’t help the nervous laughter that bubbled up in her throat when he practically pounced on the offer with, “Oh, please. Yes. That would be great, and nearby, that’s like a fuckin’ miracle. Perfect. We’ll be close if anything changes with LJ.”  
  
Reaching out, he grabbed her elbow again, jostling her so that she lost her grip on him and led her to the nurses’ station so she could give them the hotel name as well as her cell phone number. Within 60 seconds they were on their way out of the hospital with Lincoln’s hand still clamped on her elbow.   
  
He was all business suddenly and they didn’t speak as they walked to the hotel, which as soon as she’d told the nurse the name, he’d nodded his head and muttered, “I know exactly where that is.”  
  
Once they arrived at the hotel, Lincoln let go of her arm. His grip had been somewhat manacle-like, but she hadn’t noticed the pain in her arm until suddenly his hand skated across her lower back, guiding her without force to the front desk, where she identified herself and explained that a cabbie should have dropped off her suitcase.  
  
While the receptionist girl looked up her room information on her computer, Lincoln lounged against the high counter next to Jane. She shot him a glance, wishing again that he wasn’t wearing that shirt. Of course, it also unexpectedly occurred to her that she didn’t have any clothes he could wear in her hotel room. The thought made her cheeks prickle with heat and she looked back at the receptionist hastily.  
  
“Thank you for staying with us, Miss Phillips,” the woman said in perfect English, her white teeth gleaming against her beautiful brown skin. “Here’s the key to your room. Your luggage has already been taken up.”  
  
“Thank you,” Jane murmured turning towards Lincoln just in time to see his eyes lift slowly from her ass. There was no guilty flush on his face, but the intensity there made it obvious he wanted her to know where he’d been staring.  
  
She could have mistaken where he was looking, or even what he was thinking—he had to be so tired, it was a wonder he could focus at all. But when their eyes met she knew he was remembering the moment they’d shared only six weeks before— _had it really only been that long?_ —when they’d had their hands all over each other.  
  
The irony that he could be involved in a bloodbath some 15 hours before, but now stood blatantly lusting after her turned her muscles to jelly and was likely to turn her bones to dust. She wanted to be different, to be nurturing, to be the kind of woman that wanted a blood soaked t-shirt off of him because of what it represented, and she was—to a certain extent. The rest of her, the beating heart of her, just wanted him out of his clothes and under her hands and alive inside her body in a way that clawed at her until she wasn’t sure she could put one foot in front of the other to get herself up the stairs to her room. Their room. The room they were going to share.  
  
Lincoln’s hand was at the small of her back again, and he kept her moving forward, whether purposely or not, Jane didn’t know. She did know she wouldn’t be doing any of this if it weren’t for Lincoln. Lincoln had changed everything, and the next few moments could end up being the most uncharacteristic of her life.  
  


*

  
  
While in the car driving with his father to meet Michael at Bolshoi Booze. While Michael searched for a cell phone signal on a dark road near the U.S.-Mexico border. While he sat in a jail cell in New Mexico just waiting to die. While they flew to Montana, to the last place Veronica had been alive. While he rode the Amtrak back to Chicago.  
  
And every day on the freighter that brought them to Panama.  
  
Those were the times he’d thought about Jane, and let the memory of kissing her distract his mind from all the shit going on.  
  
From the moment Michael had gone into Sona, though, Jane had faded away, and he hadn’t thought about her at all, not until his son was bleeding all over him. LJ’s hands had clutched at Lincoln’s neck and he’d begged his father to contact Jane, begged him to tell her the truth.   
  
Just like that, she was back in his head, and he realized how deeply LJ cared for the woman if his last thoughts before he passed out due to blood loss had been about her. But he’d waited. He’d debated. He’d thought about all the things that LJ said, but he’d also weighed the possible outcomes of involving Jane in their lives any further. With his track record, Lincoln couldn’t help but wonder if she too would end up dead.   
  
But then she’d been in Panama City before he could even invite her there, and she’d been at the hospital before he could even wrap his mind around the fact that LJ would survive. And now she was beside him,  _with_  him, and the possibility of her legs wrapped around his waist was just about all the pleasure he could see in any direction for about four hundred miles.  
  
So he wanted her. What was worse was she wanted him, and he could feel it like a live thing between them.  
  
It had been a very long time since he had been totally alive. Survival mode didn’t count.  
  
As she pushed the room key card into the slot, he wondered if the best thing in the world wouldn’t be just turning around and walking back to the hotel where Michael and Sucre and Sofia were right now. In fact, he was pretty sure that was the best thing, but when Jane looked up from the doorknob and smiled nervously, he knew he’d never been good at doing the right thing, and today was no exception.  
  
Once they were inside, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Jane reached out, circling her fingers around his wrist and pulling him into the alcove where the sink and towels were. Gesturing at the bathtub that was through the open door behind her, she said, “I don’t have any clothes for you to wear…but I bet while you take a shower, I could get the concierge to find something suitable.”  
  
There was something very prim about her at the moment, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Don’t want me hanging around here naked, huh?” he asked drolly, his tone indicating fully that he thought just the opposite.  
  
Jane’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. Her eyes fell from his face to his t-shirt and then her hand abandoned his wrist to join with her other one at his waist. He felt her fingers curl into the fabric over his belly button and his whole body tensed. “I just want you out of this shirt,” she said, and there was this moment where absolutely everything was static. Nothing moved, and Lincoln thought he even forgot to breathe as they stood there. Then her hands slid up, her fingers dusting the edges of his ribs with heat and she pulled the shirt off over his head. She flung it aside with no care whatsoever and it landed in the sink just to the left of them.  
  
He’d participated, obviously. You couldn’t remove someone’s shirt without their cooperation, and his arms still remained up over his head, like he didn’t know what to do with them. Only he did know. He knew  _exactly_  what to do with them.  
  
He moved, pinning her to the sink counter with his hips, his hands diving through the clean, blonde hair that he’d imagined draped over various parts of his body, and his mouth landed on hers with the accuracy of an infrared missile. It was the same as in the kitchen in Colorado, but completely different because he knew LJ was never going to walk in and interrupt anything.  
  
She kissed him back as eagerly, as ferociously, as he kissed her. His head spun with the amount of blood that must have vacated his upper body to flood his lower half. At the hospital, he’d felt too exhausted to get it up even though he knew it would be fantastic if he could get his hands on her again. He’d stood in the lobby of this hotel and looked at her beautiful ass and lamented that his spirit was willing but his flesh was weak. But he’d obviously experienced a second wind now that seemed oh-so-promising.  
  
Gasping, she pulled her lips from his, her arms wedging themselves between their bodies. “Lincoln…” she breathed, but he just dropped his mouth to her neck. Moving his lips and tongue across her sweet-smelling skin, he found her ear, kissed the lobe gently then flicked it with his tongue before burying his whole face against her. His lips found the hollow behind her ear while he breathed deeply, pulling the delightful smell of Jane and whatever perfume she wore inside him, treasuring for whatever small amount of time this moment of beauty, something that wasn’t coated in someone’s blood.  
  
Her hands moved all over his back, pressing warmly up the crevice of his spine to the curve of his neck, then across the back of his head. Pulling him closer until she was entirely wrapped around him, her arms and legs encircled him as he held her against the counter. But she gasped his name again, and now her lips were near his ear and she breathed shakily, “You need a shower and a shave. I’m going to look like I’ve got road rash.”  
  
The remark cleared his brain enough that as he lifted his head he remembered he hadn’t seen a razor in more than 24 hours, so of course his face was scratchy as hell. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his hands gripping the outer sides of her thighs, holding her against him.  
  
Their eyes met, and she smiled. It was so lovely, he felt his heart actually clench, and he wondered what the hell was happening between them. Her fingers locked together at the nape of his neck and she brushed her lips gently over his. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Shower. Shave. Then…you know.”  
  
He didn’t want to let her go, he wanted to keep her close to him for as long as possible, so he found himself asking, “If I promise not to scrape you up anymore, will you shower with me?” Nudging himself forward into the apex of her thighs, his voice dropped sexily, “I’ll be good, I swear.”  
  
Her eyes fell shut and she arched into him, which caused his hips to jerk hungrily into her again, and he stifled a groan as she breathed, “I know you’ll be good. Lord, do I know it.”  
  
Fire streaked through him, need and want so tightly balled together, he feared he might come just from the idea of it. “Jane,” he said, the word little more than a moan of desperation.  
  
Her eyes opened again, and he saw some resolve form in their blue depths. She pushed him back, dropping her legs down as she did so. “Pants,” she uttered, the order clearly stated, though not verbalized. She moved into the small room that held the bathtub and turned the shower on, glancing over her shoulder as he obediently removed his jeans and underwear, socks and shoes. She quickly stripped her own clothes off and Lincoln feasted his eyes on her nude body as she beckoned him into the tub with her.   
  
It wasn’t a spacious area, it certainly hadn’t been designed with two people in mind, but Jane was dainty enough, and coherent enough Lincoln thought lazily, to turn sideways so they could both stand under the water. If he’d been in charge, it was likely they would have just stood there not accomplishing anything as he took in the beautiful, toned lines of her body. She very calmly and efficiently poured shampoo into her palm and then slicked it over his head. Building up a lather, she moved her hands over him, under his arms, down his back, over his buttocks and then around to his front, which when she seemed not to hesitate at all about washing his genitals, he had the good sense to stop her. He definitely didn’t need this to turn into a high school scenario with premature ejaculation, so he took over, even though his own hands on his sensitive and aroused flesh was almost more than he could handle anyway.  
  
After he rinsed himself off, he reached for the shampoo and washed her hair too. It wasn’t nearly as quick as his half-inch, mostly scalp look, but it was so pleasurable, he lost himself in the process of brushing his soapy fingers over her ears and then moving to her shoulders before letting his hands slide down over her breasts, which were lush and firm from her own arousal. When he slid his hands around her ribcage and over the small of her back, he pulled her forward and dipped his head, kissing her again with deliberation, thoroughly searching her mouth with his tongue until he felt completely familiar with her in every aspect.  
  
The water grew cool before she finished rinsing her body, but as they shut it off he noticed her lips and chin were red from contact with his face. She was no longer complaining however, and she looked a little dazed as she wrapped herself in one of the bath towels.  
  
“Razor?” he asked, running his hand over his raspy cheek as he slung a towel around his hips.  
  
She nodded at him and walked out to the main room where her suitcase sat. A few moments later, she returned, handing him her shave gel—raspberry scented—and her razor. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” she said when he eyed the can of gel and raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
“Who’s the beggar?” he asked, a smile taking his face by surprise.  
  
“We’re both equal in that, I’d say,” she replied snappily before disappearing again into the outer room.  
  
He shaved as quickly as he could without cutting himself, which was quite a feat considering the shave gel made him sneeze twice before he could get it all off his face. When he finished, she reappeared, wearing a large gray t-shirt with the word ARMY across the chest that covered her to mid-thigh. “There’s one bathrobe in this hotel room,” she said holding up a large white, fluffy terrycloth robe. “One size fits all, so you should be able to wear it.”  
  
“Do I really need to put anything on?” he asked quizzically.  
  
She thrust the robe at him. “I just remembered that I have a few associates to call, to let them know I found LJ and that I don’t need back up. I should do that now, while I’m thinking of it.”  
  
Lincoln nodded, then reached out and took the robe. “Maybe we could use the back up,” he said softly.  
  
“Should we talk first?” she asked, pausing in her retreat.  
  
Sighing, Lincoln put aside the wants of his body one more time. “Yeah, let’s talk.”  
  


*

  
  
Lincoln’s tale grew more treacherous with each reveal, but Jane wasn’t all that surprised. The Company was capable of such debauchery, nothing they did could shock her anymore. What did surprise her was Lincoln’s resourcefulness. He was little more than a petty thief and a some-time drug dealer—she’d seen his rap sheet—but it was obvious both he and Michael had inherited Aldo’s genetics, the things that had made their father a natural operative manifesting in his sons in ways that made it possible for them to survive.  
  
The longer Lincoln spoke, and the more information Jane gleaned from his story, the more apparent it was that they did in fact need the back up of the rest of Aldo’s inner circle. She would be foolhardy not to commandeer their usefulness, not when everyone she cared about was at risk.  
  
Sitting next to Lincoln on the bed as he recounted everything this woman—Susan—had said and done before she went down in a hail of bullets, as well as wondering what exactly James Whistler’s role was in everything, Jane took mental notes. She had an excellent memory, which was invaluable when protocol required you to leave no paper trail.  
  
“All right,” she said when he had finished the recap, ending of course with LJ getting in the line of fire, and the five of them barely getting out alive. “I’ll call my people and see if they can find any information on this Whistler guy. In the meantime, it will take them a day or two to get here, so we won’t make a move until they arrive. I want everyone in position, none of this switch and grab stuff. From here on out, you’ll let the professionals take care of this. Agreed?”  
  
Lincoln lay with his head on a wadded up pillow that he’d curled his arm around. The look he gave her would have slain a lesser woman. “I’m more than happy to let someone else do the work, your majesty. But I’d like to point out that everyone that’s still alive is alive because of me and Michael. We might not be ‘professionals’ but—“  
  
Jane put her fingers against his lips. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. Though he had reclined on the bed in his white fluffy robe, Jane had only sat down next to him, knowing she needed to be fully alert as he related the events of the last two weeks. Her fear that lying down next to him would lead to a completely distracting event had kept her upright. “You’re right, completely and totally right. All I meant was I want us to have more people who have done things like this before. That way we all stay alive. Okay?”  
  
His eyes glinted fiercely at her, but he jerked his head in an abrupt acknowledgment. To ease the sting of her words, she glided her fingers over his freshly shaven face, concentrating for a long moment at his beautiful mouth. She wanted nothing more than to push him on to his back, open his robe and climb on top of him, but there were too many things to do, too many things that just couldn’t wait.  
  
When he suddenly yawned, she remembered why she had brought him to the hotel in the first place. Leaning over him, she brushed her lips against his forehead. “I’ll make those calls now. You rest,” she murmured soothingly.  
  
Lincoln’s free hand caught the back of her neck in its palm and pulled her lips to his. He kissed her possessively before drawing his face back from hers. “I’m going to fuck you, eventually,” he said matter-of-factly.  
  
Jane’s stomach flutters returned full force. “I sure hope so,” she said softly.  
  
Lincoln laughed and the vibration felt rusty and unused against her skin. Kissing him gently one last time, she climbed from the bed, but not before his hand managed to slide under her shirt to cup her bare bottom. “Your ass is the stuff of wet dreams, I just want you to know that.”  
  
His hand caressed her skin and then patted her lovingly as she got to her feet. She looked over her shoulder and said, “Thank you…I think,” before reaching down to pat his ass too. “You’re not bad yourself.”  
  
His eyes closed as another small chuckle left his mouth, but she was sure he was asleep before he even finished laughing.  
  
Enclosing herself in the bathroom so her phone calls wouldn’t disturb him, she looked at her cell phone for a moment before taking a deep breath. She needed to prepare for this, for what she hoped was the final battle.   
  
She said a silent prayer that Aldo would be with them somehow.  



End file.
